He could see the dull ruffle of the water under the wind.
On the road itself he would soon be caught; south of it the search was beginning; and the ditch itself was no place to hide, for he saw a lantern moving up it.

Peter dropped into it all the same and made a plan.

The side below the road was a little undercut and very steep.
He resolved to plaster himself against it, for he would be hidden from the road, and a searcher in the ditch would not be likely to explore the unbroken sides.

It was always a maxim of Peter's that the best hiding-place was the worst, the least obvious to the minds of those who were looking for you.
He waited until the lights both in the road and the ditch came nearer, and then he gripped the edge with his left hand, where some stones gave him purchase, dug the toes of his boots into the wet soil and stuck like a limpet.

It needed some strength to keep the position for long, but the muscles of his arms and legs were like whipcord.
The searcher in the ditch soon got tired, for the place was very wet, and joined his comrades on the road.